Antinous: Loud, Depressing, but Nonetheless Worthwhile

Jonathan Stock’s Antinous, a People You Know production, played for one performance at the StAge on 23 March, was worth going to. Short, intense, a bit overzealous in the yelling department, it was a well-crafted whole.The story itself revolved around Emperor Hadrian’s half-drunken, half-demented grief following the death of his lover (and incidentally slave) Antinous. The forty minutes of playtime were, with the notable exception of Sabina’s (unnecessarily) orgasmic soliloquy on Odysseus and Penelope, filled to the brim with groans, moans, and shouts, with no respite for the viewer. One left having seen an intense and hardly uplifting play, with few seconds allocated for one to catch their breath. Granted, the play’s central theme, the loss of a lover, might not easily lend itself to uplifting interludes, but a break from the shouting matches would have been appreciated. Was the second make-out (followed by a shouting match) between Hadrian and Ajax an absolute necessity? Perhaps not. Was the suggestion that Hadrian held somewhat mixed feelings about slavery particularly coherent? One wonders. Yet, Stock’s Antinous was a cohesive whole, and quite beautiful in its depictions of the frailties of Man, abuses of power, and queer devotion.

Will Hastie’s Hadrian conveyed, with remarkable prowess, the inebriated despair of an emperor shattered by the loss of his love — though he might have benefitted from more time in which to show facets other than rage, incoherent rage, and drunken rage. His performance was akin to the wails of a wounded animal, and was surprisingly touching given the rather pejorative light the play shone on him. 

Sabina, played by Vida White, had her moments. The character forced White into a rather monotonous range, spending little time on stage not shouting at Hadrian or the slave Ajax — from resting on the side of the stage, she managed the feat of reaching what could only be described as a ‘ten’ in a split second. White’s performance was quite enchanting, though the unbridled and uninterrupted flow of emotion did not allow for the extent of her capacities to shine through.

The chorus, composed of Horatius (Luke Curtis), Lucius (Brooklyn Chase), and Evander (Martha Thompson), was intended to be voices tormenting Hadrian — they tormented the audience as well. Spinning around the stage, talking in relative unison, they felt like another layer of gloom added to an already heavy play.

The only non-erratic character onstage was Ajax, played by Stock. His arc seemed slightly disjointed, evolving from one minute to another from devotion to Hadrian to mocking Sabina, to finally impersonating Antinous in order to be treated like a god. Ajax was the only character written to not be embroiled in a perpetual yelling match, and Stock’s performance helped lighten up the ensemble.

The use of the cello, played by Sebastian Halbach, both as an accompaniment and an amplifier of the emotions on stage was particularly well done. Switching between concertos and mournful two-note alternations, Hallbach’s music was like a backdrop for the actors, delivering variety to an otherwise rather uniform play. 

The scenography was simple and well executed — a bed at the centre referencing a triclinium, grapes, wine, and bread sprawled across the stage. The lighting felt at times a bit forced, but accompanied the flow of the play.

To summarise, Antinous was worth the time. The final image, that of a bloodstained Ajax in a pool of light, brandishing Antinous’ heart, was a striking tableau, and a strong exit. One left feeling that 40 minutes of their life in St Andrews had been put to good use.

Photo by Hanna Sabu